Always Save
by Anjelle
Summary: After an irreversible event, Marco tries to help his old friend move forward. The first step? Crossing the road. Ace is left with brain damage after an accident and Marco is left to adjust to the changes he sees in his friend. But can he care for Ace while trying to cope himself? [AU. Series of out-of-order chapters from Marco's perspective. Updates when inspired]
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired loosely by the back-and-forth banter siqwithaQ and I had when he was working on his new oneshot _Never Save._**

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Marco watched as his friend cautiously approached the road, hesitant as he neared the drop where cement met asphalt. The fear in his eyes was obvious, a slight tremble in his shoulders. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. He knew that this would happen.

"Ace," he called, watching as the boy jumped at the sound, turning enlarged, scared eyes his way, "you're okay."

The boy nodded but was in no way comforted and Marco couldn't help but pity him. That was the first time he left the hospital. Well, he wasn't _supposed_ to leave, but… he'd deal with the consequences later. This was more important.

"…Scared," Ace muttered, his voice shaking in a fast, uneven rise-and-fall that was becoming all too common as the weeks went by.

"I know you're scared yoi, but can you do this?" He didn't look so sure. "For me?"

The youth swallowed, "For Marco."

"Right. Good."

Ace turned back to the road, that hesitance never leaving his tense and rigid stance as he took a step forward. His bare toes—where were his shoes?—barely brushed the asphalt when he pulled back and ran to Marco's side, the elder shaking his head with a groan. This would never work. "What do you do?"

"Don't know," Ace replied promptly, hiding behind Marco as though to keep the road from seeing him.

"Yes you do."

"Yes you do."

"No, _you_ do."

"_I_ do."

"Right. _Ace_ knows what to do yoi."

"I know."

"You know," he confirmed with a nod. "Can you show me?"

"Show Marco."

"That's right, show me."

Ace dared a wary glimpse over his caretaker's shoulders, clinging tightly to him as he slunk around to the blond's side and hooked his arms around the other's, desperate eyes looking pleadingly into half-lidded blue orbs. "Come?"

"Ace…"

"COME!" that same, unusual voice demanded, biting back fear in favour of annoyance. He'd gotten a lot harder to please since the accident, something that proved a hassle when he didn't get his way. Marco couldn't blame the boy for his fits, his short temper, knowing what had happened. But the part that crumbled his resolve was when that snappy tone turned soft, scared, looking more like a lost child than an adult. "Come, Marco? Please?"

And that about did it.

Heaving his umpteenth sigh of the day, the blond stepped forward, the younger following in step as he approached the edge of the sidewalk. He could feel the pair of strong arms slung around his elbow clench with anxiety and he realised that maybe it was too soon for a lone attempt. Maybe this would work best. Blue met grey as he asked, "Are you ready?"

The twitch of a smile graced his features as he leaned into the blond, "Mm. Ready."

Glancing down both ends of the road, Marco stepped onto it. He could feel how Ace resisted, determined to remain at that fixed point, but continued on and whittled the boy's only choices down to staying and being left alone or going with Marco and facing his fear. Fortunately—or rather to the contrary, as it proved to be yet another challenge they would have to overcome—Ace's hatred for being alone overpowered the terror asphalt brought him and he lagged behind, feeling like a cinderblock against Marco's steps. But he never stopped, determined to make it to the other side and bring about an end to this once and for all. At least, that was the most hopeful outcome.

Headlights shined from far off into the distance when that backwards force turned to an iron grip, planting them firmly in the middle of the road. Ace had stopped. The blond looked back to see his young charge staring at the oncoming car with terror in his eyes, seeing something that wasn't there—a crash and fire and _blood_, screaming that broke through the panic and sorrow as it collided—

"Oi!" he shouted, tugging on Ace's sleeve. The boy snapped out of it, glancing at Marco for no more than a moment before he remembered where he was, dashing back to the side they came from, towards the hospital. He groaned, rolling his eyes as he finished crossing and the vehicle passed in a whoosh of wind and noise.

Ace was alone, standing on the sidewalk with a broken-hearted look of betrayal as he realised. "Marco!" he shouted over, beckoning him with his voice. "Scared, Marco!"

"I know you are," he called back, cupping his mouth with his hands, "but you're going to have to cross, alright?"

"No!" he refused with a furious shake of his head, the trembling in his shoulders intensifying. "Scared!"

"You can do it," he assured, hoping that a bit of motivation would be enough to convince him.

"You can do it!" Ace countered.

"_Ace _can do it yoi."

"Marco can do it!"

So it seemed he understood what Marco was telling him to do, he just wasn't _listening_ to it. Rolling his eyes, the blond glanced down the road. Nothing was in sight, no cars or trucks along the horizon, not even an ambulance pulling into the hospital. It was as good a chance as any. "Alright," he started as his eyes fell and body shifted, "if Ace doesn't come then Marco will go yoi."

"…Go?"

He barely heard the voice, so small, so helpless, as he turned his back on the boy. Marco would have been lying if he said it wasn't a hard thing to do, leaving the poor boy like that, but he bit back his emotions, ignored the quiet calls of his name, and took his first steps down the sidewalk.

Comparing that boy, that _child_, to the Ace he remembered was almost terrifying. It filled him with dread, recalling all that his friend was, all that he'd become. In only a day—hours, minutes, _seconds_—the confident, brave man he knew crumbled and recessed into no more than a scared little boy. Sometimes, when Ace would sleep, Marco would sit and wonder just what became of his old friend, whether that was really him or just someone wearing his skin.

"—co! Marco!" The sound barely caught in his ears.

But then he would wake up, look at him with those deep, grey eyes of his and smile, and how could he resent that? How could he reject the boy that was so excited to see him every day, to receive his visits? Ace was different but… still Ace, right?

"MARCO!"

Finally the blond stopped and pulled his mind from his thoughts, turned towards the panicked voice calling his name. "Ace, all you have to do is cross the—"

His eyes widened when a mesh of black and grey rushed him. Tires screeched and the rushed honking of a horn overpowered his senses as his back hit the hard, unrelenting cement of the sidewalk.

Wide blue eyes stared up at the sky as he recollected himself, lowering his head to the crown of matted black hair buried in his chest. Arms were still wrapped tightly around his ribcage, holding him in a death grip. He looked past the body of his charge, seeing a red pick-up swerve and skid along the road and sidewalk as it shrunk into the distance, and his jaw went slack.

_Just now…_

Muffled sobs met his ears and he once more returned his attention to the one holding him, placing a cautious, gentle touch to his back. The trembling in the boy's limbs had intensified and he wasn't sure what to do, how to react. "…Ace?"

"Not Marco," a tiny voice mumbled into his shirt before Ace lifted his head, allowing Marco's eyes to catch on the closing scar amidst the black strands falling against his forehead. But grey eyes glossy with tears yet to fall quickly pulled his attention back to the worry on that face, that mouth pulled taut to hold back the whirl of anxiety and relief meshing together amongst freckled cheeks. "Not you."

The blond's features softened and he pulled his friend into a tight hug, rubbing his back as he once more latched onto him, his face splitting into the slightest of smiles. "Hey…"

Ace was a confident, brave young man with a short temper, full of vibrant life, attracting everyone to his warmth and surety.

And he always would be.

"You did it."

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**So I haven't read _Never Save_ yet (Siq won't let me read it until "Anbo Day" is over OTL) but when he was writing a particular scene about Ace crossing a street we had a bit (read: a lot) of back-and-forth going on and, because he never told me anything about the story, I developed my own (incorrect) headcanon for the story in which Ace had brain damage. This was MEANT to be poking fun at our banter and be all cracky and stuff but... yeah, not sure what happened either. For Ace's behaviour, I based it loosely on my uncle who's mentally handicapped, as well as another family member who has some developmental problems. (Also, it's genre is family instead of friendship because I always consider the WB pirates family, ya know?) ANYWAYS, I hope you enjoyed that! Please drop a review if you have the time, I'd appreciate it! :D**

**Adieu~**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I've decided to continue this. It's going to be a series of drabbles taking place both before and after the accident and I'm going to keep the story marked as complete, as I'm only going to write more when I get inspired. But, well, brain damaged Ace is fun to write.**

**Enjoy~**

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The longest nights are those spent alone, the ones where you sit in an uncomfortable chair and stare down at the one person you care about most, wondering if they're ever going to wake up. Marco learned that the hard way. For seven hours his mind repeated it again and again and again—the call, the drive there and the _waiting_, _so_ _much _waiting.

He never had to plan a funeral before, and he didn't want Ace to be the first.

The blond ran a hand gently across his forehead, swiping stray hairs out of the boy's eyes while being careful to avoid touching the bandages. He didn't want to hurt him. He didn't want to make the poor boy suffer any more than he already had.

Marco remembered hearing once that people in comas could hear what you said. Was Ace in a coma or was he just sleeping? He hoped he was sleeping, but on the off chance he wasn't, what should he have said? What words could he have used that were appropriate for something like that? After seven hours of silence, he wanted to find out.

"I wonder… if you can hear me," he stated reluctantly. His hand moved from Ace's forehead to his shoulder and his finders glided down his arm, latching tightly onto the splayed hand resting on the mattress covers.

Machinery around them beeped and noised, cutting through the eerie quiet of the room. He hated that he didn't get a response, even if it was expected.

"They say you'll be different yoi," he mentioned, fixing his eyes on the stitched and bandaged area of the younger's head where he impacted in the accident, "that you'll change. But… they didn't say how."

Would he remember him? Would he be impaired? Could he speak? Could he move? Could he listen? The possibilities terrified him, each becoming worse than the last. But come what may, he would stay by his side. He would stick with him, visit him, _take care_ of him, because he could _never_ abandon someone he held dear. Even if he couldn't speak. Even if he didn't remember.

A small, quiet, insignificant groan had Marco's heart stopping, _daring to hope_ that he would open his eyes. He held fast to that hand, cradling it in both of his as his jaw snapped closed. The boy stirred. _Ace_ stirred.

He _opened his eyes._

A shaky smile made its way to Marco's face as he observed his companion stare at the ceiling with partially-lidded eyes. He looked pale, probably from blood loss, and so, _so_ tired. But he was alive—alive and awake—and the relief that washed over him made him want to cry.

The blond removed his right hand from Ace's to wipe his face, feeling a stray tear sting against his eye. He wasn't one to be emotional but he was just _so happy._

The moment seemed to alert the patient to his presence and grey eyes rolled over to him, unfocused even as he registered his face. Marco did his best to smile, to stop the rush of adrenaline in his veins from making him tremble, but he was too overwhelmed with excitement to tell if his attempts bore fruit. Even still he just continued to rub his thumb lightly over Ace's knuckle in a soothing gesture.

"Hey there," he greeted in a whisper, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. When he got no response or recognition his heart clenched and all of the 'what ifs' from earlier came to the forefront of his mind. He swallowed. "…Do you recognise me, Ace? Do you know who I am?"

When the victim blinked he looked like he was staving off sleep, his eyes fighting to reopen. The blond wondered how long he could keep himself from drifting off again.

"…Marco."

He pressed the boy's hand to his forehead, letting out a shivering breath. "Thank god…" _I was so scared that…_

When he lowered Ace's hand to once more look at his face, Marco was met with a gentle chuckle and the faintest hint of a smile. He wasn't sure why the youth was looking at him like that, wasn't sure why he seemed so happy when in such obvious pain, but he didn't dwell on it. If Ace could smile, maybe everything would be alright.

"Marco," he called softly, happily as he returned the blond's grasp. "Marco. Marco."

At first he was silent, not sure how to act, what to say. He wished he'd rehearsed. "I'm here, Ace. What is it yoi?"

The boy's lip quivered, eyes turning glossy and in an instance he sat up and thrust himself into the elder's chest, wrapping his arms feebly around his torso. His jaw went slack as he stilled, his companion's actions not fully understood.

"Scared, Marco. Scared."

He stiffened with those words, returning the embrace with a soft gaze. Of course he was scared. Of course. After all he'd been though, how could he not be? "It's alright now. You're safe. You're in the hospital, yoi; we're going to take care of you."

"Care…? Marco care?"

"I care," he affirmed, "and I'll stay with you. But I need you to lie back down, alright? You need rest."

He felt a nod as the youth went limp in his arms and carefully he began lowering Ace to the mattress, readjusting the blankets on his resting form. It wasn't long before Ace shut his eyes again, soft snores breaking the silence, the only sound as he pondered the behaviour he just witnessed. It was hard to tell much of anything from only a few broken words, but it was enough for him to see and understand just what they meant.

Ace wasn't the same. He never would be.

And Marco didn't know if he could handle that.

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**And thus it began. It feels weird, I already replied to reviews... IT'S MADNESS I TELL YOU. MADNESS! Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Please review if you can~**


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